The Tears of Virgil Tracy
by cheesycheese
Summary: Virgil Tracy may be big, and he may be strong, but to his brothers, he's just the dude with the heart of gold who cries at everything. Shameless Angst and Fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**This is going to be another series that's mostly finished already but I'll be posting it in chapters.**

 **Virgil Tracy is a big softie and literally no one can convince me otherwise.**

* * *

Somedays, Alan thinks the words Gentle Giant were literally coined for Virgil Tracy. Yeah, he knows, you hear words like that thrown around, but with Virgil, they are 100% literal. His older brother is actually a _giant_ , and he's also the most gentle soul Alan has ever encountered.

They're far apart enough in age that Virgil has always felt older. In retrospect, five years isn't all that much. Two years with Gordon don't seem too bad, but the extra three with Virgil have always felt like a huge gap. Alan's always looked up to Virgil like he's looked up to Scott and John, and Virgil in turn has always been a dependable presence in his life.

Aside from that year when Virgil was 14 and puberty shook him up a bit, Virgil has always been there for Alan. Alan knows if he goes to Virgil with a problem, he won't get laughed at (Gordon), smothered (Scott) or analysed (John). Virgil will always listen, no matter how busy he is, and never makes Alan feel silly about it. He'll just offer up some unrelated but incredibly wise story in that really unassuming way of his, and it somehow ends up putting everything in perspective for Alan. Alan's always been a little awestruck at how in tune his older brother seems to be with his emotions.

...but the _tears_.

He supposes they come with the territory. You can't be as empathetic and big hearted as Virgil and not feel things a little too much at times, right?

Virgil cries at everything, and always has. Alan remembers Virgil crying when his fish died, crying when anyone else's fish died, crying over sad movies, crying over happy movies, bursting into tears that time he won that recital….

It's an extensive list, but Virgil has never been ashamed of it, except that year of puberty (Dark Times). Sure, he gets embarrassed sometimes, but his older brother has never been ashamed of wearing his heart on his sleeve, and in a family of boys, it's a blessing. It gives everyone the courage to be the same to some extent, because if they feel like crying, you can bet Virgil does too, or already is.

Even when Virgil transitioned into high school and started playing football and seriously bulked up, he stayed the same. Alan still laughs about all the people who were intimidated by the suddenly tall and broad figure tearing across the field, when all he saw was the guy who shed a tear the other night after the neighbor's kid gave him a flower and told him he was nice.

Nobody would ever change it. Alan knows for sure he wouldn't. His older brother has seen him through every phase of his life with that mellow voice and heart of gold and perpetually teary eyes, and to change the gentle giant would be like changing the very essence of their dynamic.

So when Dad goes missing, Alan seeks Virgil out more than anyone in the weeks after. Everything is a mess, everyone is a mess, and a weight seems to settle over the entire house. They all automatically cling to each other a little, but in times when everyone seems a little busy or he feels a little alone (on the verge of tears), he'll go to his artistic brother.

They don't always talk. One of the best things about being around Virgil is his solid and calm presence, even when he's quiet. He's a little quieter now though, his smile a little shaky, and he _always_ seems to be on the verge of tears. This in itself is a little worrying, because Alan hasn't really seen Virgil cry since the news first broke, when he'd had silent tears running down his cheeks like all of them. Alan doesn't know why Virgil's been holding it back, but every time he thinks of asking, he thinks of the conversation going back to dad and the thought of talking about it makes his skin crawl, so he gives into his weakness and lets it go.

He still sticks with Virgil whenever he can, and his older brother just smiles shakily and lets him join him in whatever he's doing. Alan will flop on his bed and watch him paint, sit with him while he works on Thunderbird Two and hand him tools, or just sit on the floor and rest his head on Virgil's knee while he plays the piano.

A lot of times, Virgil will play a song that Alan knows Dad loved, or sound a little bit bit like Dad when he speaks and Alan finds his eyes brimming with tears before he can stop them. At first, he'd felt like he had to hide them, because if Virgil of all people was holding it together, why couldn't he? He hadn't been surprised one day when the music had stopped and a big, gentle hand rested on his head, but when he'd looked up at the piano bench, he'd seen his own tears mirrored on his brother's face. Virgil had smiled at him, sad but a little less shaky, and pulled him up onto the bench. They spent the afternoon playing their dad's favorite songs, eyes wet but souls lighter.

It's then that he realizes Virgil hasn't been crying in front of them because he's trying not to upset them. He seems to have accepted that Dad isn't coming back, but Scott and John haven't, and of course they would be upset if they saw Virgil break down in mourning over a man they still believed to be alive. Alan doesn't know who he believes, but it breaks his heart to realize Virgil's probably been crying his own, alone, with no one to comfort him.

Alan doesn't hide his tears after that. True to form, Virgil doesn't smother him like John and Scott would. He just sits with him, sometimes joining in, sometimes continuing whatever he's doing but making sure to fill the air with his deep and soothing voice or with music, and Alan doesn't know what he would have done without the gentle giant in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**This story was supposed to be one long chapter but I'm a horribly slow writer and I hate that this has been sitting unfinished for so long so I'm going to be publishing as I go.**

* * *

When the buzzer sounds and Gordon bursts from the water in a mess of dripping water and gasping breaths thudding ears, he hears the crowd go wild just as he hears his name announced as the winner.

He's somehow won the gold for the Olympics, and he's out of the pool and screaming his victory to the crowd before he's even allowed himself to believe it. His heart is beating madly and his whole body is alive with adrenaline as he sees his family cheering madly from the bleachers, the roar of the crowd drowning out everything but the sheer love and pride on their faces.

It feels like only seconds later that he has the medal around his neck, he's had his picture taken with his runner ups, and suddenly he's met with a face full of cheering brothers before they tackle him to the ground.

He goes down hard as they all pile up on him, ruffling his hair and poking his medal and it's a tangle of limbs and hair and they're all laughing and Gordon's pretty sure he's never been happier in his life.

He's dragged out of the chaos by his dad, who is beaming with an unreasonable amount of pride, and hugged until he can't breathe. He hugs back, adrenaline wearing off now that the people who always ground him are around him, even though they show no signs of calming down. Scott gives him a scarily similar look of pride as he claps him across the back and Alan launches himself at his immediate older brother again but is too light to take him down by himself. John ruffles his hair, Grandma gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and finally Virgil fights his way through.

"You little shit, I can't believe you did it."

Virgil is truly for real crying, grin stretching his face wide, and he looks so proud and happy that Gordon immediately chokes up too. Maybe it's the exhaustion and adrenaline wearing off, or maybe it's because it's Virgil; his rock solid older brother, the one who's been with Gordon through all of it. From his very first swim races, to dragging his sleep-loving butt out of bed before dawn to take Gordon to practice when he couldn't drive, and later after he got his license just to keep him company, to never losing faith in him even when Gordon would call him up at all hours of the day completely convinced he didn't have what it took.

He's been with him through it all, and now he's here and literally crying with happiness and not looking one ounce ashamed about it, so when strong arms go around him and Gordon buries his face in the chest shaking from laughter and sobs, he cries a little bit too.

* * *

Virgil might be the powerhouse of the family, but everyone knows he would rather be found doing the least physical things possible. That's why whenever John comes down from Thunderbirds five, he ends up spending more time with his immediate younger brother than anyone else. He's usually exhausted, and his other three brothers are more prone to doing unnecessarily physical things like running and exercising and "staying healthy by not being lazy shits".

Lying on the couch half dozing is more up to Johns speed, and that's what he ends up doing, Virgil on the floor leaning against the couch as he flips through channels looking for something to watch. His deep voice is soothing and mellow, talking about something interesting that happened during a rescue, and John closes his gritty eyes, ready to give in to sleep. He knows Virgil won't mind. He'll wake up and his brother will either be watching something interesting he finally settled on, or gone off to catch up on work, leaving him tucked into the couch throw.

When John blinks his eyes open, yawning and stretching, the TV is still on. His hazy mind registers snow on the screen and black spiky hair buried in a blanket against the couch, and he settles down again, his eyes still burning enough for him to fall back asleep when he hears….sniffling?

It's not the TV. John sighs and opens his eyes to look at the screen.

"Again, Virg?"

"I didn't mean to!" A wobbly voice answers, a far cry from the smoothness that had lulled him to sleep. "I was flipping through stuff and it looked familiar so I stopped but then it was too late and I couldn't stop watching!"

"Hachi always makes you cry Virg. Why do you always do this to yourself?"

"Leave me alone John." A tear stained face half turns towards him, eyes glued to the screen. John can only see his eyes over the blanket but he knows Virgil's lip is wobbling. "He waited there for ten years. How am I not supposed to cry at that?"

John raises his eyes to the heavens even as he pets his still sniffling brother on the shoulder. Virgil just cuddles further into the blanket as the movie plays on, and even John has seen it enough times to know it's almost over.

They watch for a few more seconds until the others walk in. Gordon takes one look at what's playing and walks straight back out, Alan gasps softly and Scott just sighs. Soon, Alan is squeezed into the blanket with Virgil, the tears in his eyes echoing the brother now using him as a stuffed toy. Scott settles down at Johns feet, settling a comforting hand on Virgil's shoulder, both of them sharing a look they've shared way too many times as the sad music plays on and the tears continue.

* * *

It's been a hard week. To be fair, most weeks as International Rescue are hard, but some of them just seem to go on and on until it feels as if you have no soul left. This has been one of those weeks, and Virgil is just _tired_.

Every muscle in his body aches as he makes his way over to Mobile Control to help Scott pack up. He's covered in mud after wading through the mess to save villagers from a mudslide, his arm still burns from the smack he took from a piece of rubble from the earthquake a day before, and his eyes are gritty and tired from the lack of sleep. The numbness from the non-stop death and destruction weighs heavy, to the point where Virgil isn't sure it'll ever go away.

"Mr. Thunderbird!"

The high-pitched voice comes out of nowhere and makes him flinch (not that he would ever admit it), and it takes a second to recognize it's not a cry of fear. Nonetheless, he turns around to see a little girl, dark brown skin and curly hair covered in mud. He recognizes her vaguely, and realizes she must have been one of the victims trapped that he'd gotten out.

She's smiling now, though, as she races up to him and reaches up to pull at his sleeve. He gets down on her level, a smile that feels mechanical tugging at his lips as she grabs his large hand in a small one.

"I made this, I want you to have it."

It's a little beaded bracelet, and the artist in Virgil immediately sees the work that went into it. There's alternating colors, a complicated little tie-off knot, and little charms interspersed through the whole thing. It's a child's hard work, and it's dirty and chipped, but Virgil takes it like it's the most important thing in the world. He's always been good at recognizing the true value of things.

"It's beautiful." He chokes out, not able to take his eyes away from it. "You made this?"

"Uh huh! Mummy helped but it was mostly me!"

He forces himself to look up, and brown, red rimmed eyes meet black innocent ones. "Are…are you sure you want me to have this, sweetheart?"

She nods vigorously, curls not weighed down by mud bobbing up and down. "You saved us. When the mud came I was scared, and mummy was scared too, but then you came and we weren't scared anymore. You told me not to cry and promised to get me out, and you did."

The words bring the memory into his fuzzy mind. Their house had been completely destroyed, and she'd been hysterical as Virgil had worked to get her out, but he'd managed to calm her down long enough to hand her off to a paramedic and move on. He's sure she doesn't have many things left, and she's here giving something clearly precious and treasured to him.

He clears his throat around the lump there and he can feel a tear running down his face, but the little girl beams at him as he closes his palm around it as acceptance.

"What's your name?" The smile comes back, small, but one that feels a lot more genuine than before.

"Mabel!"

"Well, thank you Mabel. It's beautiful. I promise I'll take care of it."

"Not like that, silly! You'll lose it." A small giggle, sounding out of place in the destruction surrounding them, and small fingers poke until he opens his palm up again. Next second, she's stretching the bracelet over his hand.

It's a ridiculous sight. The front of his fingers not covered by his gloves are covered in calluses and mud, and the dainty beads make his hand look clunkier than usual. Even the elastic stretches to the brim around his thick wrist, but Julia seems satisfied it will hold.

A sweeping hug and she's run off, stopping only to wave at him before she goes to find her mother. He blinks rapidly as the last of his tears leave his eyes, and he has to try really hard not to get mud in his exhausted eyes as he wipes them away.

When he walks into Thunderbird Two later, Gordon takes one look at the tear tracks on his muddy face, the delicate little bracelet on his wrist and the spring in his step, and has to turn his face to hide his smile.

* * *

When Scott finally finds Virgil, it's in the men's bathroom at the far end of a long hallway. The mirror is shattered, bits of bloody glass in the sink, and his little brother is on the floor, head buried in between his knees and sobbing. Scott's heart breaks just a little more as he goes over to the figure with large shaking shoulders and a bloody fist clenched in hair.

Scott knows his eyes look just as bad as the ones that look up to meet his, before gently takes hold of the damaged hand. There's a deep cut down one of the knuckles that's going to need stitches, and the rest of it is bruised and cut up and slightly swollen. Virgil doesn't even seem to feel it as he wrenches his hand away, although his face betrays no anger, only sadness like Scott has never seen.

"He's not going to die? Please? He can't die, Scott."

"He's not going to die. You know Gordy, he's strong."

"He looks like he's going to _die_ Scott. I can't…I can't watch him die."

His little brothers face scrunches up again, tears starting up again but not quite falling before Scott pulls him into a hug. Hitching breaths turn into gasping, whimpering sobs, tears soaking through his shirt, and the destroyed look he'd seen in Virgil's eyes is the only thing stopping Scott from joining in.


End file.
